Roger Taylor Fluff - Tumblr Posts

😍 I AGREE !😍

Credit twitter : 90svalkyrie

Roger catches you jamming out to Queen while wearing his clothes [Roger Taylor Imagine]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem Reader (can also be Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor––doesn’t really matter)

Word count: 1120

Contains: FLUFF, light smut???, idk read the A/N

A/N: This is actually my first fic I’ve ever written/first time I published my writing on Tumblr!! I would really appreciate some feedback! Requests are open, so feel free to message me HERE (you can message me just to say hi, introduce yourself, anything really). Like I said, I’m a little new to this whole thing, and I would really love to meet you guys! I hope you enjoy! 

“DRUM SOLO!” you yell as you bang your imaginary drum sticks in the air (one of them is the wooden spoon you’ve been using to mix the tomato sauce) on your imaginary drums. “Keep Yourself Alive” is blasting throughout your apartment from the record player sitting on the kitchen counter (you moved it from its usual spot on the small coffee table in the living room). You’re bopping your head so hard that one of Roger’s many black Ray-Bans you stole from his closet have almost fallen off your face too many times to count, causing you to hastily shove them back up every time they slip down your nose. You’re wearing one of Roger’s white button-ups that just grazes the tops of your thighs, and as a finishing touch, you don a pair of his sweatbands around your wrists to really emulate your famous rocker-drummer boyfriend’s look.

With the music playing so loudly that you know the neighbors will most likely leave a passive aggressive note tacked on your door tomorrow morning, you don’t notice your boyfriend leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, and a fond smile spread across his face as he watches his girlfriend recreate his drum solo––quite successfully––he thinks, too. 

With a final, dramatic flourish of the wooden spoon, signaling the end of the famous solo, he finally lets out the laugh he’s been holding in while also shaking his head. 

“You know, I’m surprised you didn’t stain my shirt more than you already have with that vigorous drum playing,” he calls out. You shriek, wooden spoon flying towards the intruder. He ducks as it goes soaring past him, just grazing the top of his head. It hits the white wall behind him, spraying tomato sauce everywhere. 

“ROGER. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” you yell. “When did you get her––how long were you standing there??”

“Long enough to say that I think you should replace me for our next show,” he replies with a grin. You roll your eyes and laugh. 

“Shut up,” you say, feeling a slight flush creep its way up your neck, but you turn the stove’s heat to low and make your way to your boyfriend. 

He opens his arms and you wrap your own around him, hugging tight. He pulls away slightly and gently cups your face with both hands, tilting your chin up to pull you into a sweet kiss. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs when you separate, your foreheads pressed against each other. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, biting your lip as you smile a little shyly under his intense gaze. A little shyly because by the expression on his face, it seems as if he wants to rip his shirt right off of you. 

“I like this on you,” he says, fingering the cotton that’s hitting the top of your thigh. 

“Oh, this old thing?” you joke as you twirl out of his grasp with your arms raised by your sides. Raised just enough to have the shirt ride up and show a bit of your bum and the lacy underwear hiding underneath. You can feel his heated gaze burning into your back as you walk over to retrieve the spoon you so violently threw, and you jokingly wiggle your bum at him when you bend over to pick it up. He laughs under his breath, and you smile to yourself.

You hand him a damp paper towel and ask him to wipe up the wall before returning to stir the rest of the sauce in the pot. A few minutes later, he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder. 

“Yeah, really, really like it on you,” he says softly, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, making you shiver. You continue stirring, but you get distracted by Roger’s mouth. Distracted by his mouth moving along your neck and his hands that slip underneath your shirt. You stop mixing all together when you feel a calloused hand grip your hips deliciously, and your breath catches as you feel the other one flick the middle button open. He moves his hands from your hips to your now exposed stomach. You feel him smile against your neck when he feels your abs clench. 

“Mhmm?” You hum as he mouths over a particularly sensitive spot right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 

“Yep. But you know…it would look a lot better on the bedroom floor,” he whispers in your ear. You let out a snort. 

“Oh my God, Rog. That was really bad,” you laugh as you roll your eyes.

“You know you love it.” You press back against him in response, and he lets out a low groan, dropping his forehead back onto your shoulder. 

“You’re lucky I only put up with you because you’re handsome,” you tease, your voice a little breathless.

He fake gasps, grabbing you and backing you up into the marble island behind the two of you. 

“Is that so?” he asks.

“Mhmm, I only use you for your body. And to get closer to Deaky. Do you think he’ll say yes if I ask him out? He just has the most adorable––” He cuts you off with another kiss. This time, with a little more force. He takes your hands that are currently gripping the edge of the countertop and puts them behind his head. And you pull slightly on his blonde strands, making him grunt into your mouth. He lifts you up onto the counter, stepping in between your legs. You hear a faint clatter from behind you, but you don’t care. Don’t care when he’s gripping your thighs that are now wrapped around his hips like that. Don’t care when his fingers slip underneath the band of your underwear.

You notice a distinct burning smell and pull away. His eyes are still closed and his lips chase after yours. 

“The sauce!” You exclaim. You quickly untangle yourself from him and lunge to turn down the heat. 

“Hey, let’s forget about dinner, huh? I have a better idea on what we could do instead,” he says, panting lightly, hair disheveled. You know you probably look the same, imagining the dark blush that’s probably staining your cheeks. 

“Nuh-uh, I spent the last hour making us a nice dinner, and we’re going to sit down and eat it, Mister. Now go get some plates,” you say, patting his cheek lightly as you button up your––well, his––shirt and dodge his grabby hands. He groans, but you hear him walk over and open the cupboards.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Roger’s Being a Flirty Little Shit, and You Get Flustered [Roger Taylor x Reader]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Word count: 541

Contains: fluff kinda, I’m not really sure lol

A/N: A really quick blurb I just typed up! Was very fun to write & it was a really nice break from all the angst I was writing for When Things Fall Apart! Hope you enjoy!! Also just wanted to thank you so much for all the support with my writing. You guys are the best! 

Roger had invited you to a little weekend getaway near the beach with the boys and some of their friends and girlfriends. And of course, you wholeheartedly agreed to go as you haven’t hung out with your best friend in what seemed like forever. 

Having been waiting downstairs for almost twenty minutes, you are reminded once again of how long Roger took to get ready for anything.

“I’ll go get him,” you say to the others before storming up the stairs. 

Opening the door to his room, you ask, “Rog? Are you ready? Everyone’s waiting for you––” you stop. You stop because you see his very naked chest and bare legs. His hands are about to pull down his boxers. 

“Where are your clothes?” you shriek, shielding your eyes before turning around. He rolls his eyes while he laughs. You’ve known each other since you were babies, and although you’ve both seen each other unclothed on many occasions, you still get the same reaction every single time. 

“I always forget that you’re such a prude,” he says. 

“Am not!” you say even though you know for a fact that your face is burning beet red at the moment. Since you’re facing away from him, you don’t see the absolutely devious look that crosses his face. 

“Really, you sure?” he whispers, suddenly behind you. His body now pressed way too close against your own, voice a little husky, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. You can feel him smirking.

You jump, and without even thinking, your hand slams back. And hits him. You hear a pained “oof” before hearing him thud to the ground. 

“Oh my––fuck,” he groans. You whip around and see him clutching the front of his boxers, curled up into a fetal position. And you almost feel bad, but you can still feel your heated face and his hot breath on your ear.

“Well, that’s what you get, you perv!” you exclaim, hands resting on your hips. 

“You were the one that barged into my room while I was changing! No warning! If anything, you’re the perv!” 

“Wha––no––I was––you’re missing the point!” you sputter, and you think of smacking him again when you see his lips curl into a shit-eating grin. 

You hear someone stomping up the stairs, and a few seconds later, an annoyed Brian walks through the door. 

“Can you guys hurry up? We wanted to leave twenty minutes ago!” He stops in his tracks when he sees Roger rolling around on the floor clad only in his boxers. He looks back at you. 

“S’not my fault! She punched me in the balls!” he yells. Brian raises his brows at you though his lips are beginning to tilt up into a smile. 

“He––he was making me….flustered,” you say. 

“At least, she knows how to defend herself,” Brian says through a snort before giving you a sly high five. Roger sees it though. 

“Did I just hear that Y/N hit Roger in the balls?” Freddie yells from downstairs. You hear his laughter reverberate throughout the house. 

“Oh, fuck you all!” Roger says, still on the ground. 

“Can we please just go to the beach already!” John yells, exasperated. 

Permanent Taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love​

Roger’s on Tour, and You Miss Him Terribly [ROGER TAYLOR X READER]

A/N: I hope this does your request some justice and hope you see your BF soon <3

–––––

You blink awake. This is the third time you’ve woken up tonight. You sigh. Sitting up, you glance at the clock. It reads three in the morning, and you groan, flopping back down onto the mattress. You’ve been having the worst sleeps ever since Roger left for tour a couple months ago. It’s been hard having to sleeping in an empty bed. You’re not used to not having Roger snoring next to you. Not used to his side of the bed being cold. 

You miss him terribly. 

Fluffing your pillow and rearranging the blanket, you try to fall back asleep. But after several minutes of looking at that one brown dot on the ceiling, you huff and get out of bed. You wrap the throw blanket around your body before making your way to the kitchen. In the mood for something comforting, you grab the carton of milk from the fridge and some cocoa powder. Growing up, you would always sneak into the kitchen and make hot chocolate whenever you couldn’t go to sleep––a habit you kept throughout your years at uni as well. After mixing and heating the ingredients in a pot on the stove, you pour the drink into a mug and take a big sip. You sigh when you feel the chocolate warm your belly and head back to the room, drink still in hand. 

Pulling off your sleep shirt, you rummage through Roger’s clothing drawers. Finding your favorite shirt of his––an old, ratty, way too big Rolling Stones shirt––you throw it over your head. It smells like cigarettes and cologne and something distinctly Roger, and you smile. The book you began reading a week ago sits on the desk, and so you grab it. Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep. 

 –––––

Roger slowly opens the door to your shared flat, placing his bags off to the side––he’ll deal with those in the morning. After all the traveling, right now, he just wants to see his beautiful girlfriend and go to sleep. Passing through the kitchen, he sees the pot growing cold on the stove and a spattering of cocoa powder on the counter, and smiles to himself. When he reaches the threshold to your bedroom, he stops and leans against the doorframe, drinking in the scene before him. You’re in one of his shirts, sleeping on his side of the bed and hugging his pillow tightly to your chest, a book forgotten on the sheets. He can hear your soft breathing. 

His heart absolutely melts at the sight, and he’s struck with a wave of pure adoration and warmth. Smiling to himself, he pads into the room while shedding his jacket and pants. Left in his briefs, he turns off the lamp, and carefully lifts up the comforter to crawl into bed with you (he now has to lie on your side, but he doesn’t mind one bit). 

You roll over in your sleep, mumbling something incoherent and reaching out your arms. But you feel something solid and warm, and you shoot awake, slapping your hands wildly in front of you. His hands catch your wrists. 

“Shhh, sorry, it’s just me love, just me,” he says, trying to hold in a laugh. You stop, blinking rapidly to adjust for the darkness of the room. Your eyes widen when you see Roger lying in front of you, holding your hands in his. 

“Rog?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep. You’re not sure if you’re actually awake or not. 

“Hi darling,” he whispers. 

You throw yourself in his arms and pepper his face with kisses. He laughs, voice raspy and rough. 

“I thought you were coming back on Friday!” 

“Was dying to see my best girl,” he says. He looks at you still lying on his side of the bed. 

“Missed me that much?” He asks, tilting his chin down to your––his––shirt and the discarded pillow, and you can hear the smirk on his face. 

“Well, you did leave your poor, poor girlfriend all alone in this ridiculously big flat for two months,” you retort. He chuckles at that. 

“What a terrible boyfriend I am,” he begins, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you closer, “How can I ever make it up to you?” he whispers into your hair. Your chest warms, and your mouth pulls into a smile. You tilt your chin up, puckering your lips, and he laughs softly. 

Gently grasping your jaw, he gives you a kiss, long and sweet, something that makes your toes curl. 

“I love you, and I missed you so much,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to yours. You kiss him again. 

“I love you too Rog.”

And you close your eyes, wrapped in Roger’s arms, legs tangled with his, listening to his heartbeat. 

Best sleep you’ve gotten in months. 

Permanent Tag List:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love @blondecarfucker @scarsout @radioblah-blah @hold-your-invisible-horses @lordofthunderthr @iwasnothingbutacityboy @jennyggggrrr @ixchel-9275